All Right, Let's Panic
by shattered petal
Summary: Sequel to "Don't Panic": Miles discovers more about his General with three very simple words. Roy's amusement never has limits. -Miles/Olivier & Royai /republished


**(this was published on another account, and has been republished by the same author.)**

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><p><strong>author's note<strong>: PLEASE READ THANK YA!

This is a sequel to _Don't Panic_, so you may want to read that first before you read this. I wanted to tell you that Olivier (and Miles maybe) might seem somewhat a little out of character. I had done this on purpose, because the General is pregnant (wtf!) and she might be enduring fantastic mood swings. I'd say this one-shot sums up the relationship between Miles and Olivier (from the prequel), and I hope I wrote it okay. Roy shall be a big feature to this – he had to be – and I'd say he keeps the one-shot moving. One scene may be awkward for you, I'm not sure, but nothing "cringy" happens. At least, I really hope not.

I should stop babbling.

Due to some feedback and a request from MewPhong, I wrote this sequel, and I hope you enjoy :)

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><p><strong>Title<strong>: All Right, Let's Panic  
><strong>Couples<strong>: Miles/Olivier & Royai  
><strong>Genres<strong>: Humour/Family  
><strong>Rating<strong>: T

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><p>'Ma'am, why couldn't you have been concerned for me when you invited me to your parents' home? You never showed up. Or what about that time when your brother dragged me to the arcade games at the fair and kept me with him during the entire night? You never show up when I really need you to. I can't help but feel like you're doing this on purpose. With all due respect.'<p>

He heard her mutter something inaudible over the phone, and then, '_First, I'm not concerned for you at the moment. Actually I'm just checking on how things are progressing in Ishvala, don't flatter yourself, Major. Secondly, I don't think that evening when you were with my parents went terribly. They spoke highly of you after that night, so you must have done well_.'

The tone in her voice couldn't be less caring. He sighed heavily. Usually he wouldn't have the confidence to confront her like this, but over the phone Olivier wasn't as scary. Mostly because he couldn't see her face and that was probably the most frightening feature about her. He wouldn't say she was intimidating in an "ugly" way. In fact, he didn't find her "ugly" at all. She was just incredibly talented at pulling the appropriate expression at the appropriate time. Most people – well, _everyone _except him – had only witnessed her pull a blunt face, others it was a frown, and only for a few – especially Mister Mustang – it was gritted teeth and and scrunched up nose. Miles, on the other hand, had actually had the authority to see her expression go _soft_. He almost had a heart attack when he discovered she actually had rather large eyes (in other words, she was "cute") and that she smiled.

Smiled. _Smiled?_

'Miss, they kept asking me questions about how I am with you,' he could imagine the puzzled expression she was currently holding, so quickly added, 'Meaning, they were confused as to how. . . well. . . I had actually managed to get together with you and–'

'_Stop. Right there._'

'Why didn't you show up?'

She groaned and he secretly grinned, '_It'd be question after question on how my tummy has grown larger each month,_' she sighed, '_I'm fat.'_

Miles bit on his lower lip, removed the phone from his mouth and barked a laugh. Hopefully she hadn't heard his exclaim, otherwise she would not be impressed. He quickly returned back to her, 'No you're not. You're pregnant.'

'_It feels weird to be told that_,' she sounded disgusted, '_This bloody son of a bitch keeps putting its flaming foot in my ribcage!'_

He sniggered quietly, 'At least she's alive.'

'_She?. . . Oh God. You're not imagining the gender, are you? Please don't. That's what mushy, pathetic couples do when they're excited._'

'I am excited, ma'am,' he replied gently.

'_Well, believe it or not, Major, I don't happen to be jumping over the moon with you. I can't drink anything without being sick. The only liquid this damn creature enjoys is the coffee, and that's horrible anyway. What's wrong with it_?'

Miles had to say he was thoroughly entertained with his General's confusion. He knew Olivier wasn't very child friendly. Wait, scratch that, she _wasn't_ child friendly. He could still recall the time when a lost four-year-old had wandered over towards her during a short visit to Central, and had said he had lost his mama. The look in her eyes was just cold-blooded murder. Miles, fortunately, was there at the time so managed to remove the boy from her sight before she went on a rampage. "I hate children," she had muttered to him that very day. He didn't doubt her.

'Miss, the child isn't an _it_,' he replied, carefully, knowing she was very capable of giving him a pleasant visit to Ishvala and leaving with just his head, 'When you see the child, you'll be–'

'_Whoa! Steady on. Miles, I don't think this _thing_ can breathe yet_.'

'Technically, the baby starts to breathe when it comes out of the mother's womb.'

She sighed heavily. He could imagine her rolling her eyes. Lately he had been a bit of a know-it-all when it came to birth, and he was gradually starting to irritate her. Not that he hadn't been annoying her anyway, what with his sheer enthusiasm to have this child. Sometimes he made her sick – literally and figuratively.

'Oh! Is that your delirious wife? Pass me the phone,' before Miles could stop him, Mustang snatched the phone off him and pulled a massive grin, 'Hey! How's the sweet little angel doing?'

'_. . . Fuck off, Mustang. And it's fine._'

'Silly, I was asking about _you_.'

'_Urgh! I don't see you settling down lately_!'

Miles smiled in amusement. He could hear her a few centimetres away _over the phone_ when Mustang was pressing it against his ear. The major had to admit he secretly _loved _to watch these two bicker continuously. Roy's grin couldn't be any wider. The entertainment that shone in his eyes was almost blinding, 'Actually, Mrs I-never-use-contraception, I am pregnant,' his eyes widened when he realised his mistake, 'Um, no, wait, that came out wrong!'

'_I'm sure one day male pregnancy will be available. You and Fullmetal might want to volunteer being the first couple_.'

He sneered, 'Don't worry. I won't need to. I'm having a child in a few months anyway. We're two months in.'

'_I hate to brag, but I'm seven months in. Um, so. . . what's your comeback to _that_?'_

He smiled, 'At least ours wasn't an accident.'

'_. . . You're fucking lucky this conversation is over the phone_.' Mustang was expecting a roar to escape her throat, but apparently she wasn't going to, '_Anyway, who is your partner? Or do you not know? See, I'm not the one spreading my seed everywhere._'

'I hope not. Unless you've got something to confess.'

She inhaled sharply, '_You know what I meant, son of an. . . overweight rhino_.'

Mustang barked out with laughter, 'Are you _serious_? Is that the best you can come up with? You used to be great with the name calling, but since your pregnancy, you've just been so _weak_. I heard you burst into tears when I called you fat a few weeks ago–'

'_I did not cry, asshole. My eyes were watering_.'

'Sure. And I'm ugly.'

'_Yes, I know that. You don't need to remind me_.'

Roy growled, but inside he adored this. Over the months it was true Olivier had become amusingly weaker. Her temper had been so out of control lately, and her mood swings were incredible. When he mentioned this to Miles, the Major had to agree. She was very puzzled to be with. One moment she would be attempting to stab you, the next she would be snuggling against you. The latter, Mustang found, was _very_ peculiar. "She snuggles with you?" he had asked. Miles had nodded, smiling. Yes, _Olivier_ hugs him. "She can be affectionate." Mustang's face had been applauding, "Wow."

'Hey, when Hawkeye has the baby, maybe our two kids could have a playtime together.'

'_Better not. I'll have taught my kid already how to murder yours._'

'I wouldn't try doing that. At three months, mine will be able to control fire and burn yours to a crisp.'

'_Not when I'm around it won't_.'

He raised his eyebrows, 'Ah, so the witch _does_ care.'

'_Go and kiss your reflection, Mustang. You revolting orphan_.'

He snorted, 'Eh, you called me that one before.'

'_Get off the phone!_' she screamed.

Mustang laughed and happily handed it back to Miles. The quarter-Ishvalan wasn't so sure if he _wanted_ to take this. Roy had left her in a shit mood, and it was going to be _he_ who would get the worst of it. He carefully placed the phone to his ear, ignoring Roy's grin, and gently said, 'Hello?'

'_Bring that bastard here, and I'll rip his head off!'_

'Calm down–'

'_Calm down? You telling me to calm down? Wow, that's impressive advice you've got there, Major. Why don't you tell me everything's going to be all right, like you did when you discovered I was having this bloody thing_.'

Mustang was currently in a laughing fit behind the Ishvalan, hunched over. In fact, he was laughing so hard no sound was escaping his mouth. Miles chewed on his lower lip, 'Just ignore him.'

There was a painful silence. Her voice was quiet, but dangerous, '_. . . You know, I'm very, very happy to have two heads on my desk.'_

He inhaled sharply. She was not going to calm down, and these insults were going to get worse. Miles turned to face Roy who was _still_ laughing. He smiled. He had an idea. His heart fluttered against his chest violently, and he felt sick. But it would be a good cure. Something that would either stop her talking, or, at least, tone down the insults.

'I love you.'

Mustang sounded like he had choked on something. There was a pause, and then the most peculiar sound erupted from his throat. Miles wasn't sure if he was laughing or crying, and when he turned to him he saw he was now on his knees, sniggering quietly, tears pouring from his eyes. Wow. He had just told Olivier Armstrong he loved her. It was true, he guessed, but. . . he had never told her this before.

Speaking of the devil, she hadn't said a word. In fact, she remained silent for the next three minutes and he wondered if she had hung up on him. Now _that_ would be cold. Mustang looked up at him, highly entertained, and raised his eyebrows. Miles shrugged and stuck out his tongue by the awkwardness of the situation. Yeah, he would confess in front of _this_ man.

Her voice made him shudder and almost gasp. She hadn't hung up.

'_Really_?' it was a whisper.

He clenched his free fist. He thought this conversation only happened in sleazy romance novels (which he, secretly, liked to read every now and again). He swallowed and turned to Mustang again, panic written all over his face. Roy seemed to understand, and, still grinning, patted his shoulder.

'Don't leave me,' Miles said quietly to him.

'I'm here, don't worry.'

Miles' hands were sweaty and he had never felt so nervous before. He swallowed and placed the phone to his ear again. Mustang's grip on his shoulder tightened. Miles ignored the never ending sniggers.

'Yep.'

Mustang turned away and snorted. Miles almost dropped the phone from shaking so much. Jeez, he _was_ frightened of her.

Never had someone ever told her that she was loved. Except for Roy, but that was just another petty joke of his. She guessed when she was a little girl her parents _may_ have mentioned they loved her, but she had never been placed in this difficult position. If she was honest, she would say she was incredibly flattered. Which was weird. She wasn't one to feel flattered. Olivier should find this confession as an insult. Right?

So why did she feel so relieved? Why did she feel this foreign bubbly emotion? She cringed. Jesus, this was _horrible_. How could Miles do this? Had Roy set him up to do it? She could hear the bastard laughing over the phone. But Miles wasn't like that. She knew him well, and was aware he was a breed that was dying: a gentleman.

Olivier gritted her teeth in irritation. What now?

'_Thank you_.'

Miles blinked. Was that it? Wait. Her tone had sounded. . . very _odd_. He then realised she was shocked beyond words. Oh God Almighty. He knew confessing something like this to her was, well, going to be challenging, but not _this_ challenging! He turned to face Roy, who just grinned like an idiot. He covered the speaker.

'You're a good woman person. What should I say?'

He shrugged, 'I can't believe the words are coming out of my mouth, but I think she wants _you_ to speak. God help you, Miles.'

'Great. Thanks,' was his answer, before returning to the speaker. He inhaled, 'I hope you don't mind.' He heard Roy slap his forehead.

'_No, I don't mind_,' she said a little too casually, '_I. . . don't know what to say_.'

And just like that, he realised something new about her. Olivier was just as nervous as he was. In fact, she had been nervous from the start. She just hid it with insults and amusing mood swings. He smiled to himself. She hadn't rejected him yet, and he had a hunch she wasn't going to anytime soon. He had imagined her to hang up on him the moment he had stated he loved her, but she was still on the phone. Now he grinned. Even though she hadn't stated her return of affection, he knew damn well it wasn't just flattery she felt. He shouldn't expect her to give a soppy, silly "I love you too". He cringed. That wasn't her at all.

He had made her speechless though. Miles' smile faded, realising she probably lived in this withdrawn, loveless world. To have someone _loving_ her was just peculiar. It probably didn't fit correctly in her head. She was simply not mature about the current situation. Mind, he wasn't exactly making a good job out of it either.

Roy had stopped laughing – _finally_. He now watched the Ishvalan in silence, thoughts whirling around in his head. That was it: just silence. And it was strangely not awkward anymore. It was actually quite pleasant. But Mustang didn't have the patience to wait for the show to continue. He gestured to Miles to pass him the phone. The Ishvalan frowned.

'I promise I won't fuck up,' he grinned.

Miles reluctantly handed it to him.

'Hi, Olivier. It's Roy again,' he sniggered.

'_Oh. What now_?'

Roy was shocked to hear there was no impatience remaining in her voice. Jesus, had those three words really calmed her down? He snorted, turned away from Miles, and said, 'I think what you want to tell Miles is that you lurrve him _very_ much!'

Her growl was satisfying to his ears, '_What on _earth_ gives you the impression I want to say that? Fuck you, Mustang. Jesus_.'

Mustang laughed and was about to come up with another fantastic insult, only to have an Ishvalan enter the tent and inform them they need help lifting some materials. Roy smiled, 'I have to go and lift some stuff. Good bye!' He said, a little too happily.

'_Hope you get squashed_.'

'What, with my muscle?'

'_You've got muscle_?'

Roy was actually hurt to hear she was serious. He tutted and handed Miles back the phone, before departing from the tent. The quarter-Ishvalan bravely spoke, 'I need to go as well.'

'_Bye then_.'

He was quite disappointed to hear her uncaring tone. Surely what he had confessed would change her attitude towards him. Then again, this was Olivier. She hung up the phone before he could say anymore, and suddenly felt ditched. It then clicked into his head that she had only hung up on him because she had nothing left to say. He had still left his General speechless.

That thought alone was bloody terrific.

His grin couldn't be compared to Roy's as he left the tent.


End file.
